The Pure Sorrow of a Child

My wife sat down with my daughter to read a blog entry from a friend that recently moved away to Colorado where she talks about how she misses California. This friend's daughters used to come to my house all the time to play with my daughter, and my daughter basically broke down in sorrow this afternoon. She was crying uncontrollably and was inconsolable. We did our best to help her understand that sometimes friends must move away and that throughout our lives we will have to say goodbye to some of the dearest of our friends and family. We even spoke about our ancestors, who came from England as pioneers to settle in the valleys of Utah and had to say goodbye to their families forever when they left their homes. It didn't help. But what we did do was have her sit down and dictate an email that we could send out. I thought it was interesting, so I wanted to post her text here:

"I really, really, really, really, really miss [you]. I want to have a play date with you so, so, so, so, so much -- badly. I miss them because you moved. I miss them because we spent time playing with toys and playing games. We played dress up and played different games. [Friend's daughter #1] was always Sleeping Beauty, [friend's daughter #2] was always Snow White, and I was always Cinderella. Tell [them] this when you see this message. I really wanted to move close to where you live. I wanted to send you a letter asking you to find a job for my Dad, but Mommy said no because Dad likes his job."

After composing this, we sent it out and she was finally calm. It's interesting the amount of true and sincere sorrow that she felt. It's good that adults manage their emotions better, but I don't think we ever really feel such pure, sincere, and unfettered emotion. She's a funny little girl.